Dusk & Summer
by RationalCashew
Summary: Scully and Mulder spend a weekend away after a case. Rated M for smuttiness. One-shot.


They'd stayed for the weekend, after wrapping up the case that brought them there in the first place. It was inevitable, really. He'd brought a California girl home to California. Naturally, she would want to spend time with the sand, the sun, and the beach. For some reason he would never be able to fathom, she wanted to spend that time only if his presence was a given.

He would always be a given.

Who was he to deny her a day in the sun? Who was anyone to deny her anything?

That's how he found himself sitting on the course, California sand with a half-naked, bikini-clad Scully sitting between his legs, resting her exposed back to his shirtless chest—although, she'd since put shorts on over the bottom of her bathing suit. For reasons Mulder would never understand, she was content to sit there in his arms, watching the sun set over the ocean as the waves crashed against the shore.

They had to leave in the morning; go back to the reckless life that eagerly awaited their return to Washington D.C.

But, he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay in that place, with that woman in his arms, watching the sun set forever. What he would give to hit pause on the moment.

Despite the deluge of people around them, they were the only two people in the world.

Mulder was ripped from his reverie when she shifted in his arms. He looked down and met her gaze. She smiled at him in such a way that turned his insides to goo faster than any alien encounter ever could. He wanted to see that smile on her face every second of every day for the rest of his life.

Maybe, if he got lucky, he would see her smile for the rest of his life—and not just because it was burned into his memory now; but, because he made her happy.

He shouldn't make her happy. She should run as far away from him as possible, but she never did. She always stood beside him, holding his hand—even if only proverbially—and helped him to navigate the darkness; the light in her eyes guiding their way.

All he knew for certain in that moment was that she was smiling at him and he wanted the moment to last forever.

"What is it?" She asked softly, sweetly.

He smiled down at her. "Absolutely nothing," he replied gently, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

She kissed him back languidly. They didn't need to rush right now. In that moment, they weren't Scully and Mulder, FBI; they were Dana and Mulder, young-ish and in love.

Her hand found its way to the base of his skull. She raked her fingers through his short hair lovingly.

If this wasn't perfection, he would never be able to define what was. If this wasn't perfection, he didn't want perfection because he couldn't imagine any moment better than this.

When they pulled apart, Scully threaded her fingers through Mulder's and relaxed against his chest, resuming her watching of the tide crashing against the sand.

At some point, he found them lying back with her head resting on his chest as he held her securely in his arms. He wasn't sure how long they'd spent on the beach; long enough, though, that he was pretty sure they were going to have sunburns. Her tank top had found its way onto her body but, he didn't care about sunburns and tank tops just then.

Eventually, she sat up with a sigh. "We should probably get back to the hotel," she said, reluctance present in her voice. He didn't have to see her smirk to hear it as she said, "Mulder…"

Scully pulled him up by his arm and he went willingly. He'd go anywhere willingly, just as long as she was with him.

"No," he groaned, feigning petulance. Scully giggled in response. He lived for that giggle. He'd do whatever it took to hear it again. Mulder pulled her to him and said in her ear, "Let's stay."

"How much longer?"

"Forever," he replied huskily. Mulder felt her shiver against him.

"We can't stay here forever," she replied in a tone that rivaled his own.

"Ten more minutes, then." He pressed a kiss to her temple. She sighed her concession.

After quite a few more minutes beyond his promised ten, she moved again. This time, he went with her.

They gathered their things, disposed of their trash, and walked toward the car with their hands laced together by fingers.

The hotel in which they stayed was quite a bit of an upgrade from the ones they were forced to occupy when it was on the FBI's dime. This weekend, though, was on him. She deserved a break—even if he could only give it to her for the weekend.

Mulder watched silently, happy and content, as she dug through her suitcase. After she'd found the clothes she was looking for, she set the clothes on the bed and moved her suitcase the floor.

"What is with you today?" She asked, arching an eyebrow in that way that drove him crazy as she crossed her arms across the robe she donned.

"Nothing," he said, smiling in return. "I'm just… happy."

She smiled widely, the smile reaching her eyes as she began to walk toward him. He met her halfway and her arms went around his neck while his wrapped around her waist of their own accord, underneath the half-open robe poorly covering the bra and panties she had on underneath it. Scully pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

Somehow, they found their way to the bed and Mulder found himself propped up over her, kissing her slowly as his hands trailed her body, over her now exposed breasts, her toned abdomen, and to the elastic of her panties.

He tugged at them and broke the kiss to look at her with a seductive grin on his face.

"You're a little over-dressed," he said.

"Mmm," she replied with a tight-lipped smirk before adding, "You should fix that."

He smiled again and recaptured her lips. Scully's arms wrapped around him as she shifted,

positioning herself underneath him suggestively. He broke the kiss long enough to remove the offending clothing article and tossed it on the floor.

The look she shot him went straight to his groin as he removed the remainder of his own clothing. Suddenly, she was pulling him to her, mouths meeting with fervor; all signs of sauntering abandoned. She tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth.

A moan escaped her lips when his fingers found her hot, wet center. He set about stroking from her entrance through her folds to her clit and back again until she began to grind her hips against his hand, instinctively bucking at him each time he grazed her clit. He grinned against her mouth at her eagerness for him.

This time, it wasn't about biological needs between consenting adults. It wasn't a fuck to pass the time or because one of them was hurt. This was a dance and he had every intention of savoring it despite the pulsing in his groin.

His mouth moved from hers to nip at her neck as he continued the ministrations of his fingers at her entrance. His mouth trailed from the hollow of her throat to her clavicle before it reached her breast. He tugged at her nipple gently with his teeth, eliciting a moan from her as he slipped a finger inside her. One of her hands moved up and down his bicep while the other ran through his hair.

She was hot and wet around him and, soon, one finger became two as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. Every pleasure-filled moan and noise spurred him on. He kissed his way from one breast to the other, giving the latter the same delicate attention he'd given the former.

She was close, he determined from her ragged breaths and he began to pump in and out of her with more speed, strumming his fingers along her frontal wall. She moaned his name loudly, begging him not to stop.

Mulder wasn't sure how much time had passed, having lost all concept of it, but her muscles clenched around his fingers, her back arching as she began to shake and she was commanding him to be inside of her.

He happily and eagerly obliged, removing his fingers and positioning himself to enter her, sliding into her easily and groaning at the sensation of the tight heat around his cock. He began thrusting, slowly at first and then alternating speeds as he followed her reactions like a goddamned treasure map until she was moaning his name like it was the only word she knew.

She dug her nails into his back and shoulders, marking him as her own as though he didn't already belong to her. It was enough to tell him that she was close again. This time, so was he; evident by his rapidly losing control over the force and speed of this thrusts. Not that she seemed to mind.

With a pleasure-filled cry, her muscles began to clench around him, milking him for all he was worth as she rode out her orgasm. He followed right behind her with one, two powerful thrusts... until he was spilling into her with a cry of his own.

Mulder collapsed on top of her, panting into her neck as she ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair. They stayed that way for a few minutes, until their breathing and heart rates slowed. He pulled out of her audibly and dropped beside her on the bed.

Scully moved to rest her head on his shoulder and drape her arm over his chest. He pressed a kiss to her temple and continued to focus his breathing. Too soon, she got up to clean herself off in the bathroom. A few minutes later, she slid into her panties, donned his shirt, and joined him again in the bed.

"We should do this more often," Mulder said quietly.

Scully snorted in amusement and said, "We have plenty of sex, Mulder," before she pressed a kiss to his chest.

He chuckled. "Firstly, there's no such thing as plenty of sex—."

"You're incorrigible," She interjected with a laugh as he continued.

"I meant _this_... a weekend away."

"Mm," she agreed sleepily as he traced imaginary shapes on her arm delicately.

Soon, Scully was asleep against him. Her even breathing lulled him into unconsciousness not long after.

If he had known that trip to California would be the only one of its kind, he would've made sure that moment had lasted. If he had known that, a few months later, he would be abducted by aliens, they never would've come home. If he had known that, one day, they would have a child together, he would have made sure they'd made love the way they had in that hotel room more frequently. If he had known that, one day, she would've had enough and walked away from him, he would have held her tighter.

If only he had known he would end up alone like this...

Things would've been so, so different.

But, he didn't know. Because of that ignorance, he'd loved and lost in a way that no one ever should have to experience.

What he wouldn't give to have it all back, even if only for one day on the beach.

With a sigh, Mulder put the picture of them away; the picture Maggie had taken when they'd gotten home. Scully's sun-kissed skin glowing brightly, his arms around her, the smile on their faces. He hadn't known anyone was paying attention to their moment, let alone that a photograph would cement its permanence.

He pulled on his jacket, bracing himself to see her for the first time since she walked out their front door. Gone were the days he held her close to him whether on the porch as they watched the sun rise or set or on the bed in a sated, post-coital glow. Gone was the laughter from their home; replaced with bitter silence and heartbreak. Gone was the warmth of her smile when she caught him gazing at her or the heat of her body as he spooned against her back.

Part of him foolishly hoped that seeing her again would be like winter's cold giving way to summer's warmth. There was no summer in his life anymore. It had been replaced with a seemingly never-ending winter.

Like salt in the snow, he was melted and left all alone in a proverbial prison of his making. He might've been the warden, but she held the keys. He longed for her to set him free from his tormented loneliness the way that only she could.

He watched as the city passed him by from the back seat of someone else's vehicle. His heart jumped when he saw her standing on the sidewalk, staring at the front of the Capitol building. His arms ached to wrap around her again. His lips tingled at the thought of their last loving kiss, longing to feel her soft lips against his again.

But, this wasn't the time for that. He braced for emotional impact as the car pulled to a stop and she turned around as though sensing his presence. Maybe, their hearts _were_ still connected after all this time.

And, maybe—just maybe, winter would turn to spring and that little bit of her that he'd been clinging to so tightly would be enough to bring her home.


End file.
